


Use Your Words

by nightrose



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Collars, Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Enjolras, Face Slapping, M/M, Orgasm Control, Spanking, Submissive Grantaire, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightrose/pseuds/nightrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras dominates Grantaire. for the kinkmeme. This is pointless D/s smut, check the tags for some idea of what kinks lie herein (a lot of them).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Use Your Words

“Kneel,” Enjolras orders, his voice cold as ice. Grantaire practically falls to the floor in front of him, his knees hitting the floorboards with an audible thump. Enjolras permits himself one last gentle touch, stroking the top of Grantaire’s head. “What’s your word?”

“Red for stop, blue for slow.”

“Use it if you need to.”

“I promise,” Grantaire assures him.

“I’m going to really hurt you tonight, R,” Enjolras warns. It’s supposed to be a threat, to give him a chance to back out. Grantaire grins at him, excited.

Enjolras reaches down to ruffle his hair. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. Master.”

“You tease.” He smiles and reaches for the box on the bedstand table. “You remember what this means?”

“Once it’s on I’m yours. Although I always am.”

Enjolras smiles slightly at that. “You are very good. Hands behind your back, don’t move them.” He takes the collar out of its box and buckles it around Grantaire’s throat. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. “You look like such a good little pet.”

Grantaire keens gently and leans into Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras pulls it away, slapping Grantaire sharply across the face. “Did I tell you to move, bitch?”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” Grantaire practically whimpers, and Enjolras growls in response. There’s something about Grantaire’s submission, his willingness to fall so easily into self-abasement, that makes Enjolras almost angry.

He tugs on Grantaire’s hair again. “Is there anything you wouldn’t let me do to you?” Grantaire doesn’t answer. Enjolras slides his booted foot closer to Grantaire’s naked crotch, resting the toe threateningly close to his testicles. “Answer me or I’ll hurt you,” he purrs, sliding his boot up to press against Grantaire’s erection. “And you’ll probably like it.”

“Anything you want, Master.”

“Filthy whore,” Enjolras snaps at him, and Grantaire shudders. Enjolras tightens his grip on Grantaire’s hair, dragging him up to his feet. He slaps Grantaire again, harder this time, and watches the red mark bloom on Grantaire’s cheek. He leans forward, licking the reddened skin, then sliding his mouth down to bite Grantaire’s neck hard. He doesn’t let go until Grantaire’s moan has turned pained and desperate, and when he licks over the spot he tastes just a hint of coppery blood.

He throws Grantaire onto the bed. Grantaire lies there, almost stunned, as Enjolras climbs on top of him. He leans in close, pressing his hands into Grantaire’s throat. Not hard enough to really cut off his air, but hard enough to frighten him. He kisses Grantaire roughly, biting at his lips, his tongue invading Grantaire’s mouth. 

He pulls away, hands still around Grantaire’s neck, just above the thick leather collar. “You really would let me do anything. You’re just that desperate for my touch.” He tightens his hands a little, threateningly. “Aren’t you, whore?”

“Yes, sir,” Grantaire rasps.

“Would you beg me to choke you?”

“Please, sir—“

Enjolras slaps him hard. “I didn’t say to do it, you stupid slut.”

“Sorry, Master.”

Enjolras sneers at him, moving his hands back to his throat. He squeezes a little, until Grantaire’s face is bright red, then lets go enough that he can feel Grantaire gasping for breath. “I could beat you black and blue and you’d thank me for it. I could cut you open with a knife and you’d lick your own blood off my hands. You’re pathetic.”

“Yes, sir.”

Enjolras pins Grantaire’s arms above his head, staring intently down at him. “Say it.”

“I’m pathetic, sir.”

“Do you deserve my attention? Hmm?”

“No, Master.” Enjolras squeezes his wrists, and Grantaire gets the hint. “I don’t deserve your attention, sir. I don’t deserve anything.”

“You’re lucky that I care enough to hurt you. That sometimes I even fuck you. Do you think you deserve my cock?”

“No, sir.”

Enjolras rubs his clothed erection deliberately against Grantaire’s hip, making the boy pinned to the bed gasp and twitch. “You want it, though. You’re a fucking slut for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master. I’m—I’m a slut for you.”

“Are you worthless? Are you a worthless little slut?” Enjolras taunts, still holding Grantaire’s wrists to the bed with one hand as he draws the other down his chest, pinching sharply at his nipples.

“Yes, sir.”

Enjolras shakes his head. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’re too hard on yourself, you disgusting bitch.”

“Master?”

Enjolras kisses his neck, almost gently. “I think you have a purpose. You’ve always been a good little fucktoy for me.” 

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course, that is all you’re good for. So I suppose it makes sense that you’re so desperate for my cock all the time.” Enjolras reaches down, squeezing Grantaire’s erection cruelly. “Don’t move your hands.” He lifts his hand from Grantaire’s wrists, watching with gratification as the other man holds himself obediently in place. He sits back, looking down at Grantaire’s shaking body. He’s flushed red, his eyes wide and bright, smiling vaguely. Enjolras sneers at him and starts to hit his stomach, quick hard slaps all over that bring color out on his skin. 

When Enjolras’ hand starts to hurt, he stands up and grabs Grantaire’s hip, shoving him sharply over onto his belly on the bed. He looks down at him for a moment, admiring the long line of his back, the soft curve of his ass, before he lets his hand fall again. He only hits Grantaire a few more times, just enough to leave a few handprints on his ass, before he can’t take waiting anymore. He grabs Grantaire’s ass in two hands, spreading the cheeks apart, and stares at him. Grantaire’s body twitches, as if trying to maintain some modesty. “Adorable,” Enjolras says aloud. “Like you think there’s anything you can hide from me. Like I don’t own every inch of your body.” He trails one long finger down the cleft of Grantaire’s ass. “This is mine, and I’m going to use it.”

Grantaire can’t choke back his moan, and Enjolras spanks him once, hard, to quiet him down. Then he spits on Grantaire’s exposed hole. Grantaire doesn’t even react to the humiliation, just pushes back ever so slightly into Enjolras’ hand as he slides a finger inside him. 

“You have permission to beg, whore.”

“Please,” Grantaire gasps at once, as Enjolras is pushing a second finger none-too-gently in. “Please, sir, please fuck me, I need your cock inside me, I need you to use me, like you said it’s all I’m good for, I’m your whore, your fucktoy, please, Master, please, I need you to use me, to touch me—“

Enjolras pulls his fingers away, standing where Grantaire can see him as he wraps a hand around his cock. He strokes slowly, teasing. “You don’t think you deserve it, do you?”

“No, Master, but please, please, let me have it anyway, I’ll be good— You don’t have to wait, you can fuck me just like this, hurt me, tear me open, make me bleed, I don’t care, I’m yours—“

Enjolras grabs oil from the bedside table, enough to coat his cock thoroughly. Whatever Grantaire may say, Enjolras would never truly want to injure him. “Ass up, fucktoy.”

Shakily, Grantaire draws himself up onto his hands and knees. Enjolras climbs back onto the bed behind him and grabs his hair, pushing his face back down in the mattress. Grantaire keens, a high, eager sound, and Enjolras slaps him hard on the back of his thighs—not in punishment, this time, just to watch the red marks spread across his skin. He grabs Grantaire’s body by the hip, taking his own hard cock in one hand, and lining it up with Grantaire’s swollen entrance. He pauses there for a second, a cruel tease, before he shoves inside.

Grantaire practically screams. It must hurt, Enjolras had barely prepared him, but it’s a sound of pleasure as well. “You do love to be used, don’t you?”

“Master—“ Grantaire gasps as Enjolras moves inside him, thrusting roughly out and slamming back into him.

“Shut up, hole.”

Grantaire moans and Enjolras starts to slap his ass, rhythmically, in time with every thrust he makes. Grantaire is trying so hard to hold still for him, to be good, to be pleasing. But he can’t handle it, and that’s just about the most arousing thing Enjolras can imagine. He’s broken through Grantaire’s slavish obedience, gotten him to a new state of mind where he is so completely broken to Enjolras’ will he can’t even heed spoken commands, only the movements of Enjolras’ body. The thought sends Enjolras over the edge. He tugs on Grantaire’s hair, pulling his head back into an arch and biting his neck. Grantaire tentatively moves with Enjolras’ thrusts.

“Go on. If you can’t control your slutty ass, then do it. Fuck yourself.”

Grantaire moves back, meeting Enjolras’ thrusts now, as Enjolras tugs his hair back into an unnatural position. Grantaire is soundless now, his throat pulled so tight he can’t even whimper, though his breath is heavy and hard. 

 

“You want to come, bitch?” Enjolras releases his grip on Grantaire’s hair just a little, so that he can speak.

“Yes, Master.”

Enjolras slaps his ass. “Too bad.” 

Grantaire whimpers, disappointed, but doesn’t protest.

“Maybe I’m not going to let you come,” Enjolras suggests, every word a dark threat accompanied by a sharp thrust. “Not tonight. Not at all. You’re lucky I don’t make you touch yourself. Just to make it harder to control your little dick. But I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to use you, as hard as I want, as long as I want, and then you’re going to lick me clean and fall asleep with your dirty ass full of my cum and you’re going to be hard and aching all night long, like the filthy desperate slut you are—“ 

Grantaire moans again, and Enjolras bites his ear and comes, continuing to move as he does, letting Grantaire work his ass on Enjolras’ cock until he’s totally spent. Then he turns over on his side, tugging Grantaire with him. He rolls Grantaire onto his side and kisses his forehead. For a moment, they both just breathe. Enjolras can feel Grantaire’s erection pressing into his side, and reaches for it. Wordlessly, he takes Grantaire in hand, stroking slowly, almost tenderly. Grantaire moans brokenly and shifts towards him. Enjolras can’t resist one more chance to make him beg.

“What do you want?”

:Let me come, please, Master—“

“All right.” Enjolras places a benovalent kiss atop his head. “You have permission, cumslut.”

Grantaire sighs happily. Enjolras immediately feels wetness on his hand. It’s clear the denial of permission was all that was holding his boy back.

He runs his fingers by Grantaire’s mouth, and Grantaire obediently licks them clean, his tongue moving in shy little darts. Enjolras pets his hair with the other hand. When his hand is clean, he pulls Grantaire fully into his arms.

“How are you, love?”

“Good.” Enjolras moves to unbuckle the collar, and Grantaire grabs his hand. “Not yet? Just… let me sleep with it on. As yours.”

Enjolras smiles fondly. “Always mine,” he assures Grantaire kissing him tenderly. “My own good boy. You did very well, darling.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire murmurs, half-asleep already. “It was hot.”

“I’m glad you thought so. I enjoyed it.”

“Me too. Lots. I… I love being yours,” Grantaire confesses, strangely shy after all the things Enjolras made him say during their scene.

“I love it too. I love you,” Enjolras assures him, and Grantaire closes his eyes.

“I love you too, Master.”

Enjolras doesn’t scold him for using the title outside of a scene, like he might have otherwise. He just strokes a hand through Grantaire’s sweaty hair until they both fall asleep.


End file.
